


Greg's Heart

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [84]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Mystrade is Our Division Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: A view into a few hours of a certain detective inspector's heart on a day at work that's a bit not good...
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [84]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090899
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	Greg's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts: Skip

Detective Gregory Lestrade was in a mood and it showed.

He used the lit end of one cigarette to light yet another one, relishing the fresh nicotine hit. Greg’s heart sagged when the finished third cigarette joined the two others on the ground at his feet. Seven months smoke free puffed to fuck all. _One day at a time_ would have to restart yet again another day as he lit yet another.

Passersby that saw him said nothing, but the wary concern showed on their faces. Greg could tell they all mentally, and some physically, took a step back from the waves of anger that emanated him.

And he could not have cared less.

The Marlborough Murderer was no longer a case for NSY.

He leaned on the bonnet of his car and smoked because he did not trust himself to be behind the wheel again.

He ran his hand along his sore thigh and cursed when his finger got snagged along the long rip in his trouser leg. Just another shovel full of the crap that had been the last couple of hours of his day starting with the chase.

He was on the steps of New Scotland Yard watching the chief superintendent gave a press conference. Greg’s heart seethed as chief superintendent pretty much took all the credit for the arrest of the serial rapist as Greg silently fumed as he stood next to him in front of the cameras.

It was horrible timing that an officer, a sergeant from another squad and his rookie partner arrived with a suspect Greg recognized as the Marlborough Murderer. The rookie had the handcuffed suspect by the arm to escort him in the building. He was a rookie; he made a rookie mistake and paid more attention to the press conference than his suspect. 

Greg had barely registered the rookie officer’s gasp at the suspect’s slackened grip when said suspect made a run for it. Greg’s heart leapt in surprise before he immediately ran after him. 

Greg heard the chief superintendent yell for him to return, as the sergeant also yelled for the rookie’s return heedless of the live press conference. Greg knew the rookie had heard and ignored his superior the same as he heard and ignored the chief superintendent. He and the rookie exchanged a knowing look of the tongue lashing they both knew was in their future and chased the Marlborough Murderer anyway.

He did bother to yell at the murderer to stop more than a couple of times as they gave chase. There was no point. This was the third time in a month the wily suspect had been caught. Twice he had managed to escape other officers while in the street before he could be brought in and processed. Greg was determined the third time would not be on his watch. Apparently the rookie officer felt the same. The rookie slowed to pick up the handcuffs the murderer had managed to slip out of and tossed to the ground.

Greg’s heart raced as the suspect, seemingly made of nothing but long legs that ate up pavement picked up speed determined not to be caught. Somewhere along the way he and the suspect outran the rookie. He could not help the shot to his self-esteem that he a middle-aged man was keeping up with a suspect at least ten years his junior when an even younger rookie could not. Greg was feeling the stress of it, and knew he would pay for the exertion later. While he could not seem to gain ground on the suspect, at least he was not losing any. 

Greg grimaced when the suspect ducked into the alleyway. He hopped over the first trash bin kicked into his path then ducked at the other thrown at him was just as determined to catch him. A small part that Greg did not want to admit was enjoying the full tilt cat and mouse chase through London’s streets.

The suspect seemed surprised yet equally delighted in the pursuit. At least until the suspect realized he ran into a dead end. The alley used to be a pass through, but of the building owners had a fence installed only a few days ago.

The suspect skidded to a stop and turned; his cool eyes narrowed dangerously as they sized him up.

Greg’s heart lurched in anticipation of the unspoken challenge.

He knew the man was going to try to get past him. Greg ran a rough hand through his hair knowing the suspect would not be stupid enough to climb the fence.

He was wrong.

The chase was on again as the suspect ran for the fence.

Greg’s heart filled with dread as his trousers snagged as he went over the fence. It was just enough of a delay to give the suspect a chance to disappear into the crowd if Greg lost sight of him once cleared of the alleyway.

The suspect had turned to look over his shoulder and grinned at Greg’s predicament prepared to run finally be free of the insistent officer when he tripped on only the good Lord knows, lost his balance and slammed into a wall. Greg had ripped the trouser leg free the fence to free himself and dropped to the ground. Greg’s heart rejoiced at the opportunity that finally allowed him to close the distance between them.

It was a tussle at first. Where the suspect had youth and agility and his side, Greg had strength and experience. He took a few punches but it was not long before the suspect was handcuffed again. By then the rookie cop had caught up to them on that side of the alley. He and the rookie held the murderer down while Greg fashioned a restraint out of zip ties to hobble him at the ankles. 

One tired and grateful Greg happily requested an additional hobble restraint when a patrol car pulled up.

With his knees strapped together and secured to the handcuffs behind him the suspect could hobble, when Greg removed the zip ties at the ankles then could half walk, but he could not run. Greg and the rookie were met with applause as they paraded the Marlborough Murderer past the same press conference into New Scotland Yard.

The Met had the Marlborough Murderer at last.

Regrettably, they did not have him for long.

An hour later the murderer was fingerprinted, his mugshot taken and was waiting for his solicitor. He and the rookie were being reamed out by the chief sup for making a scene, aka making him look bad. Yes, twice they caught him and lost him first, but third time’s the charm right? The Met caught him, had him dead to rights. A conviction was certain. That was when word came down from the commissioner the man was wanted for an assassination of an ambassador in the States. The paperwork was already being prepared for his extradition.

Greg’s heart raged as he stormed out of the Met. Sally had followed him; tried to calm he down. It was not the first time such had happened it would not be the last, but when she saw him buy the cigarettes from the concession stand she let him go. It was going to take more than words to calm him down. He had forgotten he did not have an extra pair of trousers at work, not having replaced the last pair that were damaged. It seemed like an excellent moment to take a couple of personal hours to go home and change.

At least that was the intention when he zoomed out of the car park. He was angry and speeding. It took almost sideswiping a parked lorry when he took a turn too sharp, too fast for him to calm down enough to realize he should not be behind the wheels of car. He pulled into the first empty spot he saw and got out of the car.

Now nearly three-quarters of an hour later he had stopped smoking but he leaned on the bonnet of his car. The cigarettes had been a mistake, he felt even more wired. He wondered what was it going to take before he calmed down.

He knew what, or rather who. Greg’s heart sagged further as he remembered his love was having a very busy day. Greg was not going to disrupt with something he himself knew was trivial. He just needed time to cool off. He was going to stay where he was until he did.

It took a moment before he realized someone was next to him.

Greg shook his head, annoyed with himself for such navel gazing he had not noticed when the sedan pulled up along side of him. Had not notice his own husband as he stepped out of the car and leaned on the bonnet with him. Greg’s heart skipped its first happy beat at the sight of him.

Greg knew without asking he knew Sally must have called him out of concern. He should be mad, but he was too grateful.

Mycroft said nothing; simply took the cigarette pack, tossed it aside and kissed his hand. He then just as silently led Greg to the waiting sedan and pulled him into his arms as they rode home.

At long last, after having seethed, leapt, raced, lurched, filled with dread, rejoiced, sagged, and skipped a beat; now in the solace of his husband’s, arms Greg’s heart finally calmed.


End file.
